A Modern Myth
by Lost2Paradise
Summary: When Dionysus's immortal wife Ariadne goes insane, the only thing that can cure her is the golden grapes that rest in Crete, guarded by maenads who have outgrown his control. Now Ceramus, their son must go on a quest to save his mother's sanity.
1. Kyrian of Thrace

Greece, 640 **A.D**. - Oracle's chamber(Thrace)

A young boy walked down a dark stone corridor, only a single candle lighting his way. He had no business there, the thought of entering the place should have never even entered his mind, yet there he was. Something was calling him, urging him further into the corridor as the darkness closed in around him with each step. A breeze blew, too cold in Thrace's oppressive summer heat to be natural. Kyrian shivered as it chilled him, seeming to go straight through him to his very bones. His candle couldn't withstand it, it seemed, as it flickered weakly once before going out. All at once Kyrian was plunged into a darkness so oppressive it frightened him. He turned, disoriented and confused, what he thought to be one hundred and eighty degrees and began running. He barely made it three feet before smashing full force into a wall. The impact sent him sprawling to the floor, candle flying from his gasp. He scrambled up quickly, the darkness was still pressing in, making him unable to think clearly as a thousand faceless demons closed in unseen in his mind. It was then that he heard a sound, the first he'd heard in the corridor not made by him. It was a low hissing sound, not unlike that of a snake's slithering. He froze, trying to determine where it was coming from. Without warning something brushed past him, a thick smoke, a tangible one. He couldn't say how he knew, for he saw nothing in the complete blackness of the corridor, but he knew. Fear poured through him, soaking his clothes as he stood stock still, eyes clenched shut as he prayed for whatever it was to go away. A voice, cracked and brittle as ash then spoke, setting his hair on end, as if each individual one were trying to escape the specter.

"When the queene of insaenity,

to her husband's naeture falls

onlee a sonne of revelery

mae restore her sombrietey.

Nine men on a queste there must be,

but love well a stranger in fox-skinne cloths

for he will guide your wae.

The red woman and general shall arrive at cockerel's first crowe,

the pirate and princling soone after.

A seer and theife comme next,

and a magician of will completes the company

till first crisis bares another."

Then, just as suddenly as it had come the smoke retreated, leaving a lighted corridor in it's wake. Unable to cope, the boy's eyes rolled up into themselves and he collapsed.

America, 2012 **C.E. - **Nashville

A man watched amused as a crowd gathered around one of the last newspaper stands in town. Everyone seemed to be buying the same paper, some laughed as they read, others scoffed, yet they all kept reading. The woman running the stand bent behind the counter for a moment, only to come up with another stack of what seemed to be the only paper being bought, The Nashville Post. Intrigued, the man glided over and, to the woman selling papers, seemed to appear out of no where. She started briefly before taking in the man's appearance. He had the kind of bronzed skin that only came from hours in intense sun, certainly not the kind found in Tennessee, maybe somewhere exotic like around the Mediterranean, she mused. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, set under eyen darker brows and his mouth...sensuous with one side quirked ever so slightly, like he was sharing some private joke with her. The quirk widened a moment before he began to speak.

"Good evening miss." he shifted his weight a bit and crossed his arms comfortably, leaning against a near by tree. He was well built, with muscles that told of nothing but strength and speed. The woman flushed a bright red

"Good evening." she echoed, the greeting sounding odd coming from her own lips, though natural, inviting from his own.

"Business seems to be doing very well today. What is it that's got everyone so excited?" he asked, leaning in conspiratorially, and dropping his voice an octave or two. The red that had finally been draining from her cheeks returned with a vengeance and the man chuckled lowly. He loved it. In all his centuries, women's reactions to him never seemed to change. It was one of the few things he could take comfort in knowing would never change.

"Someone anonymous made a submission to the paper, they're trying to recruit people for something. A lot of people think it's just a joke but others are saying it's serious. No one knows what it means though, its written really weirdly and it's just about some queen or myth or something..." she trailed off, not sure what else to say about it. It was just one of those things you had to see for yourself. The man nodded and pulled a bill out of his pocket, stepping forward to put it on the counter and grab one of the mysterious papers. Then, with a nod, he stepped back into the shadows and seemingly disappeared. He didn't go far though before stopping to read the article in question. He took one look at the page and froze. On it, in bold writing, there were seventy-seven words, just three hundred and forty-nine letters. Just seventy-seven words and yet it brought him as close to fainting then than anything had since he'd first heard them uttered several lifetimes ago.


	2. Some familiar faces

America, 2012 C.E.- Miami Beach

A woman with long brown hair and large sunglasses rifled through the trunk of a blue Hyundai Genesis Coupe, giving a small cry of triumph as she extracted a small black device before tucking it into her pocket and grabbing several packs of c-4. Grinning a little she closed the trunk and approached her target building. Carefully, ever so carefully, she placed them. One at the front door, one at the back, and one on each corner of the house. Then, satisfied at a job well done and ready to get out of there, lest the owner come home early, she walked as naturally as she could back to her car. As she approached it however, she saw a flyer under her windshield wipers. Startled that she hadn't noticed anyone go by, and wary that someone may have seen her she grabbed the paper and drove off quickly. Only when she was safely back at Michael's loft did Fiona allow herself to look at the flyer. It was plain white printer paper, the words centered and in bold. Despite the simplistic design of the paper though, as she read, she came to find out it was anything but. There was something in the words that called to her, made her feel as if the riddle, as she thought of it, was specifically made for her. In the next few days she would see thousands of these same papers pop up around the city and watch as people scoffed and through them away. She would find that the paper didn't have to same draw to them as it did to her. Because of this and her ever curious nature she decided that on May tenth she would be at the replicated Greek pantheon in Tennessee at dawn, just as the flyer instructed.

Haiti, 1720 C.E.- Tortuga

"Wench! More rum!" a dark haired pirate called from his seat in the captain's daughter, a 'quaint' little pub, ripe for all sorts of fun. The serving girl gave the man a dirty look before realizing who had addressed her. Her expression quickly changed as she looked down, furiously trying to hide her blush. The pirate was none other than Jack Sparrow, infamous captain of the Black Pearl. Some even say that he discovered the fountain of youth, he certainly looked like he had. Twenty years he'd been coming to the captain's daughter and in all that time he hadn't seemed to age a day. She quickly finished clearing the table she was at, shoving a curious flyer in her apron to look at later and grabbed an unopened bottle of run from the shelf over the bar. She deposited it in front of Jack quickly, curtsying low to show ample cleavage in the vain hope he will take interest. A tactic that most definitely worked with the man, for even as she rose she found herself being pulled onto the rouge's lap, a strong arm winding about her waist. She giggled as he uncorked the bottle and took a swig, not bothering with a glass. He put it down and something on her person seemed to catch his eye. She looked down self-consciously and saw the paper she'd grabbed earlier.

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten about that." she commented idly to herself and pulled it out, unfolding it on the table in front of her. She could feel jack's head rest on her shoulder, reading over it. As he did, he seemed to stiffen and after a few moments he looked away, as if remembering something.

"Calypso." he whispered under his breath, the barmaid just barely able to catch it. His head snapped back to the paper and, seeing the writing at the bottom, snatched it up for a better look. "May Tenth" it read, "The Crusader. Captain's cabin. Dawn." It was terse but provided him with all the information he needed. He had to go, for he had no doubt that the prophecy above was straight from the lips of calypso, and if she was around it could only mean trouble.

Middle Earth, year unknown. - Parth Galen

Boromir closed his eyes tightly as the Uruk-Hai stood over him, crossbow pointed at his chest, point-blank. If he were to go out, this would be the way to do so, having fought and killed many opponents before being felled himself. Perhaps he'd also regained his honor, lost when trying to steal the ring from Frodo. He relaxed a bit, this was for the better he thought. It would made sure he'd never put Frodo and the fellowship, indeed all of middle-earth in danger again. He waited, and waited for the impact to come, but it never did. Cautiously Boromir opened his eyes. Standing over him was no Uruk-Hai, but instead a strange elf maiden. He peered at her curiously before taking in his surroundings. Everything was…soft, white and orange and pink intangible marble.

"Am I dead? Bled out before the final blow was struck?" he found himself asking, his voice smoother, deeper than it had been while alive. The elf maiden laughed, the sound a chorus of tinkling bells.

"No, son of Denethor, you are very much alive," she stopped a moment, letting him take her words in, then continued.

"but the choice to stay so is yours to make. There is another quest that requires your presence in a world very far from your own. If you choose to be a part of it, you shall live till you are felled again by an enemy or old age takes you. If you choose not to, your body dies now and you shall go to the after realms." Boromir was silent for a long time.

"Tell me maiden, this quest, is it for a good or evil?" he finally asked in a voice soft and unsure.

"Have you ever known an Eldar to be driven by evil? Depending on the outcome the people of this world may be free of one of the worst fates they can suffer." she spoke again. Boromir only nodded, his pride and honor as a son of Gondor making his choice for him.

"Then I shall go to this world. Tell me, how must I get there?" The elf only smiled mysteriously and, as blackness seeped in around them, he heard her voice whisper.

"You are already there."

America, 1906 C.E. - Al's Place(crossroads)

"Sam! Sam!" Al Calavicci yelled as the quantum door to the imagining chamber closed and disappeared behind him. There was something wrong here, very wrong, and he was going to find out one way or another what it was.

"Sam! Where are you!" he shouted, knowing only Sam should be able to see or hear him since, after all, he was only just in his mind; programmed to be visible to only him by syncing their brainwaves. So, when the patrons of the pub called 'Al's Place' turned to look directly at him, it went without saying that it surprised him greatly. He ignored it for the time being and pushed past several patrons in search of his best friend.

"Sam!" he called again, relieved, as he saw his friend sitting at the bar. He was talking to the bartender, looking resigned. Al was just close enough to here him say "I'll do it" before being consumed by blue sparks. Sam looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Al one last time before disappearing. Unlike the other leaps that they had made together though, Al didn't disappear with him. Instead he found himself still in the bar, confused and more that a little bit nervous. He decided to talk to the bartender, figuring he must know something. He was the last to talk to Sam after all. He made his was quickly to a seat and sat down, motioning the man over. With what seemed like a quiet chuckle the man obliged.

"What can I get ya'? the man asked, slathering his words with fake innocence. Not amused, Al gave him a look and got right down to it.

"Where is Sam?" he demanded to know. The man looked at Al.

"You know." he said,

"You remind me a lot of myself, we even have the same name. Al." he smiled so charismatically as he said this that Al almost forgot he'd never said two words to the man before now, little lone told him his name.

"You must be wondering how I know you, right? Well you must have realized this is no ordinary place. Both Sam and yourself were brought here for a reason." he explained enigmatically.

"Why was Sam brought here?" he asked, not caring about why he was here so much as he did about where his friend went. The man smiled.

"He had a chance to set something right that should never have gone wrong. It was important to him that he do it, but the price for it was a lifetime of leaping. He took the chance anyway." Al didn't have to think twice about what it could have been. Beth, that's who he went to. He went to save his marriage. He thought on it a bit more.

"Wait! My third wife… Carolina? Was the reason I joined project Quantum Leap in the first place! What will happen if he succeeds?" Al was slowly becoming panicked, something that didn't happen often after his time in Vietnam.

"You will live happily with Beth, not remembering anything if you choose." he admitted. Al caught the fact that there was another option immediately.

"If I don't though?" he took his chance.

"Well then you can leap with Sam, and throw away what he gave the rest of his life for." he shrugged unapologetically at the look Al shot him.

"But, as I said, there is also a reason you were brought here." he added in. Al, still thinking about Sam's situation, raised his head slowly to show that he was listening.

"There is something only you can do, a quest if you will. Someone who only just wanted to live happily with her husband for the rest of her days has been put in a position where she can not. You, along with others, are being asked to help." The reply was cryptic, disconcerting, and most of all it got to him on a personal level. It was true for him that all he wanted was to live happily with his wife, so he could relate eerily well. Ultimately it was this, the personal appeal that made him say yes. He had no chance to second guess himself. In the blink of an eye and a shower of blue sparks, he was gone.

Fiji, 2012 - Koro Sun Resort

"So Leilani, do you like your new home?" Neal asked the six inch hula girl doll. Mozzie, ever helpful, pushed her head slightly and let go to make it bobble.

"It seems she does." he commented with a small laugh. They were soon checking out the rooms, making sure there were no bugs, and so on. Once that was done they unpacked and headed out for dinner by the Indian Ocean. AS they walked through town they noticed flyers everywhere. Neal tried asking locals about them but all he got was repeated shakings of the head. It seemed no one was willing to say anything so, curiosity driving him, Neal grabbed one for himself to read more carefully later in the safety of their suite. Hours of wandering and visiting locals sights later, they returned to The Koro Sun Resort. Wide awake, restless, and slightly buzzed, Neal decided to finally translate and read the flyer. It was written in Fijian, a language he and Mozzie would need to pick up sooner or later to explore all the…finer points of the city. For the time being though a Fijian-English translator sufficed. The flyer told of a queen of some sort whose husband had made her crazy. Now 9 men were needed to find some kind of cure. Under the main writing there was a small side note, meeting place, and time. The note read 'The world is your garden but if no one helps tend it, it will wilt and die.' It was this as much as his own sense of adventure and yearning for something new that drove him to set a reminder in his phone for the specified day. Mozzie walked in just as he finished.

"So?" he inquired seeing Neal's smile.

"Take good care of Leilani for me. I'm going on a trip for a few days…" he trailed off mysteriously and went to bed, leaving Mozzie amused and more than a little confused.

The Underground, 1986 - The labyrinth

Jareth walked slowly down the endless paths of the labyrinth, enjoying the peace it brought him. As the creator of the labyrinth, it obeyed him, opening direct paths when called for or giving him endless corridors and paths when he wanted them. Today was a lazy day for Jareth. He didn't have paper work to do, quarrels to mediate, babies to take or girls to make fall for him. As always he took the chance to look over his precious child, his labyrinth. When Sarah had left him, the health of the entire kingdom suffered. Parts of the labyrinth _rotted,_ his subjects rioted, enemies previously too scared to attack advanced, sensing his weakness. Over time though he'd purged the intruders, set his subjects straight, and began restoring the labyrinth. Little by little it healed, the vegetation grew back, the creatures re-inhabited their old homes, and the darkened places grew light once more. As he walked Jareth took the time to greet his subjects personally, asking after their families and their happiness. He had reached a great clearing, the 'center' of the left half of the labyrinth, when he came across the Wiseman resting on one of the many benches.

"Hello uncle." he greeted fondly. The Wiseman had never failed to give him good advice, even if he hadn't understood it at the time.

"Oh good morning lad." he returned the greeting.

"I had hoped to see you here sooner or later. There is something of importance that the labyrinth herself whispered to me. Something that concerns you directly." he informed, stopping every now and then to take a breath or argue with his quarrelsome bird hat. Jareth nodded, listening intently now to the old Wiseman. He told of a queen in need, of her husband's great sorrow and of a quest to restore her to her normal self. As soon as the man was finished talking Jareth's mind began to calculate what he'd need to do before he left the underground for who knows how long. It was not normal for him to do so for more than a few hours but neither was it normal to get a prophecy from the labyrinth. When it happened, it was sure to be something very important and Jareth planned to waste no time. He turned back to the Wiseman asking where he must go and when. The Wiseman told him slowly, falling asleep between words. When he was finished Jareth thanked him but he was already deeply sleeping. With a small smile Jareth went to work.


	3. The Stranger

America, 2012. - Greek Parthenon Replica

Former General Kyrian of Thrace approached the Parthenon confidently yet cautiously, ready to defend himself at any moment should an enemy be inside. The Parthenon was not yet open, being only five o'clock in the morning, yet despite this the door swung open easily when tried. His eyes surveyed the area as he stepped in, only finding one oddity. The table in front, usually used for pamphlets and maps was bare save for a single paper, and a full size mirror propped up against it. Stalking forward, he reached the note and grabbed it.

Welcome, one of courage and strength.

Step through the mirror and meet your destiny.

Kyrian stared oddly at the paper for a few moments. Strange as it sounded he had never known a prophecy to simply let one walk away. Thus he stood in front of the mirror, reaching out with one hand to test the surface. To his surprise his hand pressed into it, as if through a thick syrup. With one last look around him he took a deep breath and stepped into it. The feeling was one hard to describe, as if you were sinking slowly at an impossibly fast rate through ice. In a moment he was spit out again only to find himself in an old building, a woman and man beside him inside it.

Bermuda, 2012. - St. George's unfinished Cathedral.

Ceramus paced uneasily through the abandoned cathedral, a line of mirrors leaned on one crumbling wall. It was nearly sunrise, time for everyone in the prophecy to be arriving. He hoped everyone needed would come. If they didn't there would be no hope for his mother and his father would go on a rampage, turning people crazy left and right. Just as a distant bell rang, startling a nearby rooster into cawing, two people stepped through separate mirrors. They started in surprise as they found themselves very far from where they'd been, and each put a hand on their weapons.

"Peace general, red woman. I mean no harm." he put his hands up in a gesture of nonaggression. Still their hands stayed in place.

"How did I come to be here?" The man, Kyrian asked.

"How was I able to walk through that mirror?" Fiona questioned further. Kyrian gave her a sideways glance, assessing her quickly and nodded. Ceramus sighed.

"Firstly, remember which mirror you came from, for it will be your way back as well. As for your questions, these mirrors were enchanted long ago by the Unseelie king as a way for his concubine to roam freely where she would. They connect two or more places for quick travel." he explained patiently, unalarmed at the fact that either of the people in front of him could draw their weapons and strike out at him with the slightest provocation.

"Who are you?" Fiona asked, relaxing only a bit. Ceramus opened his mouth to speak only to see two more people step through the mirrors. These two also reached for their weapons yet did not draw yet.

"Where am I? Where has the rum gone?" Captain Jack Sparrow asked, twisting this way and that as if to locate his favorite drink. Another pair stepped through their mirrors, less surprised then the others had been, and began to take in their surroundings. Questions flew and after several promises of a explanation to come, their last member arrived, Jareth. He didn't give the room or it's other occupants a glance, his gaze directed immediately to Ceramus who smiled in relief.

"Now that everyone is here I'll answer any questions you have. Many have asked who I am. My name is Ceramus, son of Dionysus and Ariadne. They are the reason you are here today. While I know nothing of the situations you came from, I do know it's not easy for anyone to just walk right out of their lives for any stretch of time. This means that the prophecy meant something more to you than just a treasure hunt or some other leisure activity. It called to you, each of you. It is your destiny to be here." Ceramus spoke with conviction, with confidence given to him by the thought of his mother's plight.

"That being said, I know most of you may not know exactly what you're here for. You don't know what exactly this quest is about or entails." he paused a moment to watch the crowd's reaction.

"My mother Ariadne, immortal wife of Dionysus, god of wine and insanity has gone insane herself." Ceramus gave a rueful smile at the atmosphere, a suppressed amusement. Despite this, there was no outbreak of whispers in the room, as no one was quite comfortable enough to talk to anyone else.

"I know, quite ironic isn't it? In any case, since her affliction was caused merely by long exposure to him, he cannot cure her. He needs the help of his golden grapes which rest in Karpathos, guarded by his Maenads. Because of this we must first stop in Argos to get my father's blessing, which will grant us protection from them. Make no mistake though, while the sifting silvers you traveled here through were straight forward, the ones we must use from here on are complex. The ones behind you were single purpose, designed to go just one place an back again. Unfortunately there are none leading directly from here to Argos, or Karpathos. The ones we must use, are limitless corridors and mazes of portals. You have each been chosen because of a special strength or ability you possess that will, undoubtedly, help us get through this quest. From here it is your choice to go back through the sifting silver you came through and return to your life, or continue on this journey." he finished, somewhat lamely in his own eyes, but he kept a mask of confidence for the benefit of all. The six other occupants of the room looked at each other, assessing, considering. After several torturously long moments a man with 70's style blonde hair and royal blue coat over a white tunic, Jareth, nodded. The Goblin king would stay. Then man with an oddly patterned suit and cigar nodded as well, Al was in. One by one they all nodded, giving him the sign that they would all stay to see the quest completed. Relieved beyond belief Ceramus nodded and motioned to the sifting silver behind him. It was much larger than the ones they had come in through, this one being some twenty feet by seven.

"This is-" Ceramus began, only to be cut off by a slight noise towards the back of the room. Instantly Kyrian and Boromir drew their weapons, swords. A deadly click to Ceramus' left confirmed that Fiona was armed as well. A cloaked figure revealed itself from behind a pillar. He began approaching the group slowly, hands raised.

"Stop." Ceramus called as the figure drew near Al and Neal. The person stopped dead. Ceramus had a feeling he knew who this being was, but he would take precaution until he confirmed it.

"Remove your cloak." he ordered.. When the man removed his hood and then cloak, revealing a tunic with fox-skin lining a smile spread on his face.

"Welcome stranger, will you be joining us?" he asked genially. For a moment he wondered when the seeming useful stranger would arrive. He didn't want to leave without him if he was to be here. It would have been the same once they started the quest as well. He'd have hesitated to leave each silver they passed through. He was glad he was here now, it no doubt saved him a lot of future frustration.

"Well now that we're all here, I'll finish saying what I have to say and we'll get started." Ceramus went on to explain about the giant silver, how it was the first and how once they passed the threshold they weren't to take another step, as it could possibly send them to another place or time. All the while as they listened, the occupants of the room studied the newcomer, their study ranging from discreet glances to outright gazing. He was solidly built, lithe and strong like a dancer. His face was soft and expressive like a child's, pouting lips and a small rabbit-like nose furthering the illusion. The oddest thing about him, even stranger then his way of dressing; a fox-skin tunic and leopard print tights, was his eyes. They were wild, always moving, always focusing for a single moment on one thing then fixating on the next. He could be looking right at you, yet not seem to see you at all. They were, in a word, mad. The man himself though, was quite calm and collected, keeping to himself.

"Alright then, it's time to proceed. Everyone please line up in front of the silver."


	4. The Magician's Labyrinth

Everone did as they were instructed and, on his command, took a single step through the silver. The group found themselves instantly transported to a long, narrow corridor. Perhaps though, narrow isn't the right word. One could move forward quite easily if they chose. It was narrow only because, should any member of the group take another step forward, they would find themselves being sucked into another silver. They stopped to take in their surroundings and wait for instruction. After several moments of silence, Kyrian spoke up.

"So." he commented,

"Now what?" His question was directed towards Ceramus, whose gaze lay on Jareth.

"Magician." Ceramus addressed him. Jareth looked over.

"Me?" he wanted to know.

"For future reference, my name is Jareth, Goblin King." Ceramus nodded his acknowledgement.

"Then Jareth, master of the labyrinth so I hear, you should be quite at home here." he gestured for Jareth to lead the way, he only scoffed.

"Of the one I created of my own blood and magic, yes, but all labyrinths are different. They all have different masters, some don't have any at all." he protested. Ceramus blinked as, so early in the journey, his plans began to crumble. What could this mean? He'd heard more about each person present's skills from his father. He'd been counting on Jareth's knowledge of mazes to help them here. He was thinking rapidly, trying to find another way to navigate the silvers, when the stranger spoke up.

"King of the Underground, you lack confidence in your abilities. Can you not hear this labyrinth calling to you, asking you to listen to her?" Jareth turned towards the man as well as he could in the limited space provided to him.

"Hear her? Like my own labyrinth?" he questioned the man, who nodded in response. Al chose that time to speak up.

"If you can hear her, why don't you lead us through?" The stranger looked at Al with those misleading eyes and laughed.

"Did you not hear me? The labyrinth calls for him. Perhaps she senses his power or connection to his own labyrinth. Whatever it is, she will listen only to him." he informed them all.

"How do I make myself able to hear her then? I can not even hear my own." Jareth asked of the stranger.

"How do you hear anything? By listening. If it was only this requirement though, anyone could hear them. It is how you listen- or really with what you listen that matters. You must listen with your soul. It is the labyrinth's soul that speaks to you, so you in turn must listen and speak with yours. Hear her Jareth. Open yourself to her and listen for the tiny voice that gives speech to this limitless labyrinth." Even as the stranger spoke, his words resonated through Jareth. He closed his eyes, blocking out all other sound, breathing, rustling cloth, even the steady beat of his own heart. Then, when no noise could be heard, he opened himself. He let memories flow like a river, thoughts a burbling stream, emotions a vast ocean. In the middle of it all he sat on a lone island, big enough for only himself and another. Then, like she'd been there all along, a girl appeared. Her features shifted constantly, like any great maze does but her dress stayed the same. It was a purple silk nightgown with fluff on the cuffs, collar and hem. She had slippers and, at one point, hair to match.

"You heard me!" she yelled ecstatically, absolutely bouncing in joy.

"It's been so long since one like you has passed my borders. Tell me, king of Mariah, what brings you here?" Her words confused him,

"Mariah?" he asked, masking his confusion. She giggled lightly.

"The labyrinth you rule over, she does have a name, and so do I." the girl informed. Jareth nodded thoughtfully and knelt, taking her hand in his.

"Then what, may I ask, is yours dear one?" he asked, using all his courtly charm and most heartwarming smile. She blushed scarlet, ducking her head briefly before telling him.

"I am Faethe, and you sir still have not answered my questions." she accused. Jareth rose, raising his hands in surrender.

"Well then Faethe, as you have answered my question, I would be more than happy to answer yours. I am on a quest to save the immortal queen Ariadne. We travel to Argo to get her husband's blessing, then on to Karpathos to retrieve the cure." he informed her gently.

"We would all be grateful if you would show us the way to our destinations. You truly are magnificent and I've no doubt we could be here years searching for them without your guidance." The girl flushed with pride but the intelligent gleam in her eye told him she knew exactly what he was up to.

"I know what you're doing Jareth, I have millennia on you. Charm me all you want, but I have already decided to help you." she gave him an innocent smile that belied her age greatly.

"Now, you should probably be getting back to your friends, they're getting worried." with that she disappeared from the island, leaving him to stem the currents flowing around him and return to the corridor. Jareth opened his eyes and gasped as he nearly pitched forward into the sifting silver in front of him. Boromir, directly beside him, caught his arm just in time.

"Thank you, my friend." Jareth clasped Boromir's hand with his free one. The man nodded back with a slight smile.

"Have you been successful?" Ceramus questioned intently. Jareth nodded and, after a brief period of looking off into nothing he jerked his head to the right.

"That way." Thus the group made their way through the maze, skirting silvers that seemed to want to draw them in, leaping over one that rested on the floor, and going through a few specified silvers.


	5. Will in Argos

Greece, 350 B.C. - Argos

In what couldn't have been a half hour the group reached Argos, the first city to which Dionysus revealed himself many years ago. They were all, except perhaps Jareth who seemed to instantly miss them, glad to leave the silvers behind for now. Now they were back in the mortal plane where any threat could be dealt with by guns and proper hygiene. They had no need to ask directions from the locals, since the stranger seemed to have been there before. He was able to lead them all straight to Dionysus' temple where Ceramus began to pray before a statue. After a few moments he lifted his head to see that no one besides Kyrian had joined him.

"What are you doing? Come kneel before him and pray." he instructed impatiently. When still no one moved to do as he said he sighed.

"This is what we came here for, my father's blessing. We all need it to get past the Maenads in Karpathos." he explained to them. With great sighs of reluctance they began to kneel, bow their heads and mutter their own prayers. The stranger also knelt, moving his lips silently as he observed those around him. Some asked straight out for the god's protections, others praising him first before asking, and promising many things in return. Everyone stood when Ceramus did, deeming their prayers sufficient since Ceramus had already stopped. Time it seemed, passed differently in the silvers, for dark was already approaching. With none but Jareth eager to return to the silvers, they decided to stay the night in Argos. Again the stranger lead them, this time to a small hotel where they paired off, the stranger getting the last room to himself, seeing as though there was an odd number of them and none seemed to be comfortable around him. After dinner in the hotel's dining room, they all drifted to their rooms and off to sleep, exhausted from the days activities.

Midnight -Hotel

The stranger sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He always hated this time period, his powers grew weak and he began needing more sleep than normal. Even as he paced the floor of his hotel room his eyes began to droop. With one last curse he allowed himself to drift over to the bed and collapse onto it. Within moments he was asleep.

2 AM - Hotel

Armed men dressed all in black streamed into the hotel in which Ceramus and his group rested. They made no sound as they crept through the darkened corridors to the five rooms that housed the group for the night. With a series of hand signs and a countdown from three the men broke down the doors and threw handfuls of a special powder on the newly awakened occupants of the rooms. Within seconds they were all out again, with no chance of waking any time soon. The men tied them up quickly as an extra precaution and carried them out into the night

Greece, 350 B.C. - somewhere in Argos

The stranger came awake with a groan, shaking off the aftereffects of whatever drug the men had used, slowly. Two quick jerks confirmed that his hands and feet were bound, yet very slowly coming undone. His powers were so low that he could barely manage this. A few more groans sounded around him, confirming that the others were waking as well. After a few moments people began to shuffle around wildly, no doubt trying to escape their bonds. The blindfold around the stranger's eyes slipped up enough for him to see his surroundings. They were inside some sort of abandoned building, there was no one around but his tied up companions.

"Is everyone here?" he heard Ceramus call, and everyone answer. There was more wriggling and the stranger turned slightly to see Neal, the thief, slowly worming his way out of the bonds he was in. His hands were soon free, his feet came quickly after, then his blindfold went and he too took in the situation. After confirming that no one was around he began untying the rest of the group. When he finally reached the stranger his bonds were already on the floor and he was panting from the amount power it had used. Power he didn't have at the moment. Neal seemed to note his exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. The stranger nodded,

"Yes, it's just the drugs aren't compatible with my body it seems." he lied, glad he'd retained the ability to do that much at least. Neal nodded once and stood, helping him up as well before heading over to Ceramus whom everyone was crowded around. The stranger made his way over as well, hearing he and Kyrian planning their next step. They were to wait until the men came back and face them then. The 'terrain' so to speak would be on their side in that case since the men would have to come one by one through the door to face the occupants of the room.

"It'll be easy pickings." Ceramus concluded and Kyrian, agreed. They had at least five armed and capable fighters to fend off their attackers and those who were less inclined to fight could stand a ways away and pick off the stray man who slipped through. The plan set, the men sat down and waited. Hours passed before the men came back, they were all slightly drunk and incredibly happy.

"We got those fake-god worshipping bastards!" they heard one say and the stranger noticeably stiffened, as did Ceramus. They continued to slander the god Dionysus' name all the way to the building Ceramus' group waited in. When the door finally swung open, so did Ceramus with his sword, neatly decapitating the first man. He swung and gave the second man a deep belly-cut while he was still trying to recover from the shock. A strangled yell emerged from his lips, calling the attention of others who all rushed towards the building to investigate. One by one the men fell to the group. They fought until forty were left, and some clever Argivi got the idea to burn the building. The roof caught fire quickly and flames began to spread and expand, creeping down the walls. The group was forced outside. The Argivi surrounded them, it was four to one, worse if you only counted the armed men in Ceramus' group. Till the group fought on, for the quest, for their lives, for the sake of being able to say they fought to the last breath. Soon though their initial advantage ran out and the first man fell, Al. He was struck from behind while locked in a fist fight with an Argivi. The next to fall was Neal, then Boromir, who was struck in the shoulder by his opponent. It seemed like it would all be over soon, the Argivi victorious when a strange noise rent the air. A deep twang followed by a hissing. A moment later an arrow sprouted from Boromir's opponent's head.

"Arrows! Down!" Ceramus yelled, seemingly unnecessarily as most of his group was already crouched down. Arrows rained down around them and the Argivi dropped faster than they'd come. Soon it was only just Ceramus' group left and they all rose slowly. A single archer stepped from the shadows of a near by roof and dropped down. He approached them silent as death, longbow now over his shoulder. The mottled cloak he wore made him seem to disappear and reappear every few seconds as he made his way through the shadows to them. He nodded to Boromir, who was on the ground near him, still breathing,

"He needs help. I have supplies and medical knowledge. Let me help him." the man ordered more than asked. Either way Ceramus nodded to him and he knelt quickly retrieving bandages and other necessary items from his bag.

"Where are your other archers?" Ceramus questioned the man, curious. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on the work in front of him,

"There are no others, just me." he explained. Someone scoffed.

"Impossible!" The man chuckled a bit as he tied off Boromir's bandage in what seemed to be record time.

"Very possible actually. Difficult, and requiring near ten years to master, but possible." he returned, amiably enough.

"The boy speaks the truth." The stranger finally spoke up, panting heavily from his seat on the floor.

"You are of the Araluen Rangers are you not?" he insisted. The man nodded from beneath his hood and indicated his oak leaf emblem.

"Fully fledged." he joked. The stranger smiled.

"Well then Ranger, would you remove your hood so we may see the face of our rescuer?" Kyrian asked politely, having been brought up to be good to strangers. In those days you had just as much chance of a god coming to warn by your fire, disguised as a traveler, as you did an actual traveler. The ranger nodded and threw back his hood revealing himself to be a young man, maybe twenty-two, twenty-three at most. He had an open face and a warm smile that reached his eyes. He reached a hand out to Ceramus,

"I am Will. Will Treaty." he introduced.

"Ceramus of Athens." Ceramus returned the greeting. He looked the boy, Will, over. Could this boy be the archer his father talked about? Could he be the last member of their group? Ceramus shook his head at his own foolishness. Of course this boy was the archer, he was the only one and had already saved them once.

"Well then, where are you headed Will Treaty?" Ceramus asked. The boy looked east to where they could see the sun rising.

"I travel to the shores of Karpathos." he replied, if a bit uncertainly. Ceramus' smile widened immensely.

"Then come with us, our mission takes us to Karpathos as well. We expect to be there before midday." Will scoffed at this.

"Midday? It is nearly a week's travel by ship and no plane will fly you there." he informed him, as if he'd lost his mind.

"Did I say we were going by plane or boat?" Ceramus put genuine confusion into his voice.

"If fact we are not, we travel by more mystical means." Will still looked skeptical.

"And you claim these means would get us there by midday?" he questioned.

"If not sooner." Ceramus confirmed. Will gave a small smile.

"Well then who am I to refuse such an offer?"


	6. Maenads

With that taken care of, the group headed back to the silvers, Jareth leading the way. Ceramus however, hung back with Will explaining to him the dangers of the Silvers and how to be safe. They walked quickly, Boromir staggering to keep up, the blood loss slowing him down. When they finally found the Silver, a discreet full body mirror in a clothes shop, they filed in one by one. Immediately, as each went in, they were met again by the chill of the Silvers and the seemingly endless enormity of it. They all tried to keep their calm about it, but you could tell from each one's face that it intimidated them greatly. For the first ten minutes, the path was fairly straightforward. All that seemed to change with the first incline. Jareth, still leading the way, would call warnings at each unusual twist or turn. Despite any forewarnings, the path was still dangerous. A misplaced foot or even hand could send you into a different time, place, universe, with no guarantee of coming back. After an hour of close calls and tense atmosphere, they had arrived. Karpathos was, in this time, lush and green. It was a veritable Mediterranean paradise with a sprawling shore line, shady trees, and a comfortably warm breeze, much welcomed after the chill of the Silvers. Each took a moment to take it in before getting back to business.

"So Ceramus, where do we find these golden grapes?" Kyrian asked.

"Golden grapes?" Will interrupted, confused. The group turned to him, seeming to just realize he hadn't been drawn there as they had.

"Yes. We are on a quest to get the golden grapes for my mother. They are the only thing that can cure her insanity." Ceramus explained. Will nodded,

"But if you know where they are, and you needed only one person to navigate the Silvers, why bring so many people? Did you expect to be attacked like you were?" His questions were well thought out and to the point. It was Kyrian who spoke this time.

"Truth be told, we did not expect to be attacked in Argos. There were so many of us because of the prophecy, and because maenads, women turned insane, guard the grapes." Just then, as if summoned by the name given to them, two women danced out of the bushes. They were naked, wearing only circlets of ivy and other vines and berries. In their hands were goblets of wine. They were very clearly drunk, yet there movements were graceful, as if they'd been in such a state for so long that they'd adapted to it. They caught sight of the group and giggled, then took off, half dancing and half running down a path.

"Speak of the devil." Will commented,

"And she shall appear." the stranger finished eerily foreboding. He then began following the path the women had disappeared down. The group, sharing a look, followed him. The path seemed to go on for miles, twisting and winding and doubling back on itself. The only real clue that they were heading the right direction was the occasional giggle from ahead of them.

"Should we really just be following them straight out like this?" Fiona asked, skeptical. The stranger gave no answer so Ceramus spoke for him.

"Wise or not this may be the only way of finding the grapes." So on they went, following the two maenads. Soon the trees began to thin out, greenery fading into sand and they found themselves by another shore. The stranger stopped just before leaving the cover of the last few trees and crouched down, studying what he saw. The others, curious as well, did the same. There were maenads everywhere, dancing around a large fire, drinking, eating, enjoying what seemed to be a revel. Something glinted, temporarily blinding the onlookers. After a quick scan of the area, they found the source of the glint. Not 30 feet away, in the carved out base of a giant tree, almost shrine like, sat a cluster of grapes. They were no ordinary grapes though, they were the golden grapes, so perfectly shaped and appealing that just one look made them each salivate, all but the stranger.

"The golden grapes that can cure any ill, sew up any wound without leaving a scar to show for it." the stranger spoke, his voice a soft whisper. Ceramus looked at the man,

"What else do you know of the golden grapes? I must say I find it most unadvised to go after something when one knows little to none about it." The stranger turned to him, to the group and sat down. It was as if, to him, there was no danger at his back, to quest to complete. He leaned against the tree he'd been hiding upon and began to speak.

"The golden grapes were made long ago by Dionysus as an infant. They were a present to his aunts, who raised him. However, as he was just an infant, he hadn't thought of the effects of godly food on mortals. Grapes in particular. They turned his aunts insane, they ran around as the maenads you seen now do. When turned mad they had no desire for the grapes, yet sane they had fought viciously for them. He tricked them each into eating another, glamouring their skins purple, to see what would happen. It was in this way he found the first two uses of the grapes, both causing and curing insanity. When each aunt was sane again, Dionysus hid the grapes from them instead testing their powers on travelers. To a starving man he gave two, eaten together in the man's fervor. He died immediately. To a woman with a still baby in her womb he gave the juice, and the baby began kicking once more. To a blind man he gave the skin of one grape, returning his sight. The cured people, having never eaten a whole grape neither turned insane nor addicted. The aunts on the other hand, who'd each had two were another story. They longer for the grapes as if for a strong drug. They ate little and drank naught but wine. They appealed to the baby Dionysus again and again for just one more grape. Each time he gave no indication he knew that they were about. In time their addiction faded and Dionysus resolved to never let his cursed blessing into the hands of man again. He bided his time until he was old enough to live on his own, going immediately to the most remote part of the world he could find, and carving a shrine in which to put the grapes. He then turned all of the female inhabitants of the island to maenads, having them kill the males and guard the grapes forever, since the already mad have no want for a cure. They will never die from age or illness, only an enemies blade can kill them." The stranger told his tale with certainty and clarity, as if he'd been there himself.

"Now, after millennia of guarding them, they have outgrown their master's call, bowing only to the grapes of insanity. Protecting only them." he concluded. There was only a short silence before will spoke up.

"Wait. How do you know all this? How do you know they've broken from Dionysus's hold?" He questioned suspiciously. All at once, realization dawned on Ceramus' face. He knelt quickly before the stranger, head bowed.

"Father." he addressed him.


	7. Father?

The stranger smiled and, with a burst of golden light, transformed. Before them now, stood a man with a dancer's body and a cherubic face. He was clothed in a garment of ivy leaves, a ivy wreath atop his head and a light staff in his hand, ivy leaves winding up to a pinecone top.

"Stand, Ceramus. Your job is not yet done." The god spoke in a voice of honey, deep and rich. Ceramus did as his father bade, and turned back to his men.

"Right then, we need a plan." he crouched down, picking up a stick. The drew a simple sketch of the land's layout, with the maenads clearing in the center.

"Ok, what do we know?" he asked the croup collectively.

"An aerial ambush would be nearly impossible, not enough trees close enough to them." Kyrian started.

"With all this sand, it would be impossible to dig a stable tunnel." Fiona added.

"So we face them head on then." Will commented. Ceramus nodded, seeing no other choice.

"What weapons do we have?" he questioned, looking pointedly at Fiona who grinned like the fox who'd killed the hen. She reached into her backpack, pulling out several packs of cycle-four, three handguns, extra fuse, and a lighter. Jack, seeing all the things being pulled out, grew curious of what else she may have in the bag.

"Don't suppose you've got some rum in there luv?" Fiona just shook her head at the perpetually drunk captain.

"Alright Fiona, I want you and Jack to sneak over to the opposite side of the clearing and place the explosives where you think it will cause the greatest confusion. Jack will stay over there, giving you enough time to get back before he tries to sneak into the clearing and get the grapes that way. When they catch him I want you to set off all the explosives. Jack, when they panic, grab the grapes and run. We'll take that time to come out, spread in a semicircle, and cover you. Everyone got it?" Ceramus asked.

"Hmm, go around, stay out of the wench's way as she puts up bombs, wait for her to go back, sneak in, get caught, scare them with explosions, grab the grapes and run while you guys fight them. Got it." Jack summarized as the others nodded. Fiona gathered up what she needed and she and Jack crept quietly along the tree line, staying out of sight. Jack watched bored as she began wiring the c-4, attaching them to trees and such. With one last twist she nodded and him and began heading back. Jack counted to sixty before beginning to shimmy from rock to fallen log, to whatever next random object he could find that was out of sight of the maenads and could at least partially cover him. He made it all the way to the back of the giant tree when his arm was caught by a long-nailed woman. She cocked her head at him, observing him slowly. Then with no warning, she pushed him away from the tree, taking him around to the front of it where the others were. They all stopped what they were doing, giving him the same alien stare that the first one had. It was eerie, having them all staring fixedly at him, and he could only hope that Fiona would set off the explosives soon. His hoping seemed to help because, as soon as one of the maenads started for him, savagery in her wild eyes, a large explosion went off behind him. The maenad holding him let go from surprise and the others looked around wildly for the source. A second explosion went off, sending them into frenzied disarray. Jack took his chance and grabbed up the golden grapes, not even looking at them as he shoved them into a sack and ran for where the rest of the group jumped out, rushing forward to cover his retreat. As soon as he hit the tree line he heard Ceramus calling for everyone to fall back, then the distinctive sound of footfalls. Jareth lead them to the Silvers, the only spot that guaranteed them safety with the maenads on their tails. They barreled in, one by one, trying not to bump into any of the other Silvers inside. Not seconds after Boromir entered they could all hear repeated thumps as the maenads tried to follow them in.

"Is everyone here?" Ceramus asked, doing a quick head count. All were there,

"Wait, where is Dionysus?" Jack asked, noticing that the god was no longer among them.

"He went to get my mother. The grapes cannot pass into an immortal plane so he has instructed me to bring the grapes to Olympos." Ceramus answered, a touch of pride in his voice.

"Well then, to Olympos we go." Jareth commented, beginning down a seemingly random corridor. As the adrenalin that had been pumping through all of them settled, their minds began to wander. Each eyed the sack the grapes were in discreetly. Even Jack, who carried them, was prone to glancing down. Just to make sure they're still there, he assured himself, denying any and all impulses to reach in and grab just one juicy, firm fruit. He shook his head violently as if to shake the thought away altogether. It was Boromir though, above all others, whose gaze rested on the sack. Each time he looked at it, the pain thrumming through his arm seemed to lessen. He began thinking about what Dionysus had said. The juice, or the skin of just one could stop the pain completely, and it wouldn't turn him mad. Why shouldn't he be able to use them? He selflessly chose to go on this quest, so why shouldn't he be able to use the fruits his labors? He got so lost in thought that, at one point, he stopped walking completely.

"Boromir." someone tried to get his attention, which stayed fixed on the sack.

"Boromir!" the shout finally snapped him out of it. He raised his head quickly to see everyone else had stopped as well and were staring at him.

"Sorry. My wound was jus-I was just…" He trailed off, eyes momentarily drifting back to the sack, before coming up again.

"lost in thought." he finished elegantly, as if he hadn't been mumbling and trailing off. Ceramus nodded, looking suspicious,

"Right well then, why don't you come up here and talk to me? Tell me of your thoughts…?" Ceramus offered. Boromir silently added, 'keep me away from the grapes' but outwardly smiled.

"No, thank you, I am in present mind once more." he tried to make himself sound assured, but more than anything it sounded longing.

"I would be more alright healed." he muttered under his breath, but Kyrian seemed to catch it.

"Would you take them for that purpose?" he demanded defensively. Boromir started, again having been getting lost just staring at the sack.

"I would never!" he roared.

"Oh please, I see the way you look at that sack, like a gay boy with a crush." Fiona added in scathingly.

"Oh and you! Little miss innocent are you? I think not!" Will gave his two cents, only to have it returned to him by Boromir. All the while the din grew, Jareth stared on, wondering what was happening.

"Yes…rahh…how dare…" Jack added quietly every now and then, inconspicuously slipping his hand into the sack. From it he drew a single grape. It felt cool in his hand and firm like a pearl. A tiny squeeze though, revealed it too be eatable and juicy. He inched his hand up, little by little, slowly drawing the fruit to his mouth.

"Come on, just a bit more…"

"What are you doing!" Jareth yelled, horrified. He rushed to Jack, grabbing the grape from his grasp, as well as the sack, before he could react. This exchange had apparently caught the groups attention, for the corridor grew quiet as they gazed at the grape in Jareth's grasp. They stared as if hungry dogs being taunted with a large slab of meat.

"Enough of this!" Jareth commanded, dropping the grape back in with the rest.

"These will tempt you no more!" he then summoned a crystal to his hand and pressed it to the sack. With a small pop, both disappeared. Boromir, cure snatched from his grasp seemingly forever, gave a battle cry and charged Jareth only to bounce of harmlessly nearly a foot from him.

"Regain yourself Boromir! Is this how a son of Gondor acts?" he tried to snap him out of it, but Boromir didn't even seem to hear. Instead he drew back several feet and charged again, crashing into the barrier with all his might. Jareth's eyes widened as Boromir bounced off with great force, straight into a Silver. He started after him but Faethe's voice in his soul stopped him.

"Stop! She pleaded.

"Stop! There is no life there. The world beyond cannot support carbon-based life!" Jareth hung his head in sorrow. Boromir's death, coupled with the absence of the grapes, sobered the group.

"Is there nothing that can be done for him?" Ceramus asked Jareth quietly, getting only a shake of the head in response. They soon started back on their way, subdued. Infamously curious, Will broke the silence after a few moments.

"How did you resist the grapes. I would like to think we all have a great deal of self-control, yet we all behaved as animals. You were the only one to keep your head." Jareth gave a short, bitter laugh.

"There was a girl, Sarah. She was born to the mortal world, but never really belonged there. Her imagination was vast, her will vaster. One night she wished her baby brother away, thinking nothing would come of it. However, her imagination attracted my goblins, and therefore me. I granted her wish, thinking it a favor. She on the other hand, saw it as an evil king committing an evil deed. I saw deep within her a longing for adventure, so I played the role of villain. I gave her thirteen hours, as everyone gets, to run my maze and find her brother or he'd be mine forever. I may, of course, given her some silly notion of turning him into a goblin but nuances correct? I played my role well and in the end she made it in time. I gave her one last chance though, offering to make her my queen, but she refused. She quoted, verbatim the last lines of the book I had written for her, a book playing out a situation like the one she was in then. With those words she unknowingly cast a spell upon me, for in the underground, the word is the deed. She said: Your will is as strong as mine, kingdom as great. You have no power over me. With that my will was amplified, I had my own and her own will of stone, a vaster kingdom, and of course it made it so that I really did have no power over her anymore. She banished me from her heart and her thoughts. It was that though, that amplified will, that kept me from being tempted by the grapes." After that no one spoke, they reached Olympos in silence and found Dionysus, Ariadne caged beside him, without a word.


	8. Ariadne Returns To Her Senses

"You have made it, I congratulate you, yet I do not see the grapes. Where are they?" Dionysus asked. Jareth stepped up, away from his silent companions, and with another quiet pop, the sack appeared in his hand. Dionysus raised a brow, yet did not ask. He reached into the bag, withdrawing a single grape, and tucked the sack into his belt. He disappeared only for a moment before reappearing in Ariadne's cage. He caught her chin swiftly and gently, ignoring the blows she rained down upon him. Softly he parted her lips and brought the grape to hover above them. He watch her for just a moment before squeezing it so that the juices flowed down past her lips and down her throat. She stopped dead, convulsing for a half second before blinking heavily.

"My love, where am I?" she finally asked, voice soft as an autumn breeze. Dionysus smiled widely and there was no doubt of his happiness.

"You are in Olympos, in the mortal realm." he cooed to her sweetly.

"Did I drink too much wine and ambrosia again?" she asked playfully, touching a hand to her head, as if to see if it was sore.

"Yes, something like that. Why don't you go back home and rest, for surely you must be tired. I will be with you shortly." he suggested, bending his head to give her a single sweet and lingering kiss. She smiled and nodded, then in a ball of golden light, disappeared. Dionysus turned to the mortals again.

"I thank you all, you have done me a great service. For this I will grant you each a boon of your choosing." the god offered humbly. Those present smiled, meeting one another's eyes conspiratorially. Kyrian, unofficial second in command, stepped forward first.

"Great god of revelry, I have chosen my boon." he informed, ever the smooth talker.

"For many years, in fact since I have ceased to be a general in the great army, I have had a hollow spot inside of me. I was never able to fill it on my own. Now, I stand before you, my heart full, my destiny fulfilled and therefore ask only to be returned home." Kyrian finished with a small smile, finally meeting the god's eyes. In them a small amount of shock could be seen. However, he nodded and, in another flash of golden light, Kyrian was also gone. Will stepped forward next.

"I've not elegant words and a story to tell, but I have been wandering though time for so long that I've lost track of it. My wish too, is to be sent home." he requested, smiling as he saw the god's mirth. Another flash, one less person. Fiona, then stepped forward, eyes conveying the same thing Kyrian and Will's had. With a single nod, Dionysus sent her home as well. Jareth then stepped forward, and with one last flash, father and son were left alone.

"Ceramus my son. You have made me the proudest father in Olympus. Tell me what it is you wish. Anything you want is yours." Dionysus stepped forward, embracing his son. Ceramus flushed with pleasure.

"Father, all I have ever wanted is your approval. Now that I have it, I have nothing else to wish for." Dionysus gave his son a curious look,

"I have always been proud of you. I was proud of you when you gave your first cry of freedom coming out of your mother, I was proud when you said your first word, learned to walk, when you finished each of your pots and sculptures, when you took Elizabeta for a wife. Always have I been proud of you, even if I have not always been able to be there." Dionysus face lit up as an idea formed.

"Why then, don't you come to live with your mother and I in Olympus? Surely Zeus cannot refuse after the service you have done me and your mother. You are the offspring of a god and goddess, what better place for you is there, than among them?" Ceramus could barely contain his joy, the parents missing all his life would be present now forevermore. Nothing could be more joyous surely. So it was, that later that day, Ceramus was made immortal and ascended to live on Olympus where he lived happily with his parents and fellow Olympians.


	9. Ceramus and The Last Grape

Olympus - five years later

Dionysus, god of wine and revelry, threw a party each year celebrating his wife's returned sanity and his son's induction as a god. It was after one such party, that disaster struck. It was not uncommon, one must understand, for a party thrown by Dionysus himself, to get out of hand, for passions to grow past bursting point. It was also not uncommon for the god to sneak off with his wife to celebrate on their own. It was the morning after the revel, and Dionysus lay asleep still. Ariadne had woken early, having not drank so much as he. She began collecting her clothes from the room, donning them as she went, when she saw a gleam from a cracked drawer. Ever curious, Ariadne approached her husband's desk, pulling open each drawer. The first revealed only papers and quills and other such things, the second drawer the same. It was the third however, that held a fascinating thing. Inside the drawer sat a bunch of golden grapes, gleaming and as tempting to her as her husband. Ariadne reached inside the drawer, plucking three grapes from the bunch, and closed the drawer. She studied them briefly, watching them catch the light and gleam like the sun. Then, with infinite delicacy, she popped one in her mouth, quickly followed by another. They were the single most delicious thing she had ever tasted. She moaned aloud and her husband stirred, opening a single eye to look at her. She popped the third in her mouth and chewed, moaning again at the taste and his eyes widened in horror. He leaped off the bed, rushing to her with speed to rival Hermes.

"No!" he shouted, loud enough to wake Olympus. She started at his sudden actions, swallowing the grape reflexively.

"How many did you eat!" he demanded. She stared at him, he appeared to be shouting, but it was almost as if he was muffling his voice with something. She could barely hear him. A buzzing started in her ears, progressing quickly to a shrill ringing as the floor rushed up to meet her. She was then picked up, but she couldn't feel it, only see as her husband deposited her on the bed, seeming to cal for someone. Not a moment later Apollo was at his side, looking down at her gravely. His mouth too moved without making sound. Ariadne shivered, a sudden cold sweeping her. Dionysus was still shouting, now at Apollo who was shaking his head. Her poor husband seemed so upset that it hurt her even in the numb state she was in. Apollo poured something down her throat. It did nothing. Dionysus went to his desk, pulling out another grape and squeezing the juice out so that it poured into her mouth, and Ariadne grew colder. Dionysus was crying now as Apollo left, all she wanted to do was reach up and stroke his face, to calm him, yet she couldn't move. A single tear fell from her eyes for his distress. She closed her eyes, concentrating solely on breathing and gathering her strength to her mouth.

"Do not be upset love." she managed to say, words only slightly slurred.

"I will never leave your heart." with those last words, her heart stopped and Ariadne, immortal wife to Dionysus, ceased to live. Dionysus' anguish could not be describe, nor contained. He wailed as a beast in the throes of death. He could not think, the only thing that could fit in his mind was the fact of his wife's death. The worst thing was that he was the cause, he was to blame for her death. He wanted nothing more than to escape the torment of life, to join his wife wherever she had gone. With a sudden clarity he remembered the grapes in the desk. It was only fitting, he thought, that the cause of his wife's death be his own. He stalked towards the desk, throwing open the drawer and plucked a handful of the monstrosities, swallowing them all at once. His world danced before him, memories playing like a human cinema. The last thing Dionysus saw before death took him was his own son's face in the doorway.

"Oh god, what have I done?" he asked with his last breath. Ceramus collapsed in the doorway, watching as his father's eyes drained of life. He turned quickly to his mother, to find her eyes empty as well, the same golden grapes that had brought them together lay between their bodies. Ceramus could not even process what he saw, could not handle it. He crawled forward slowly, his bones feeling as if made by mush. He grabbed up the grapes, seeing them shine as they had the day of the quest, yet he yearned for them no more. Ironic, that when he was finally able to eat them without unwanted consequence, that he must do so. There were seven grapes left.

"I must eat them all." he said softly to himself.

"That way no one else can suffer this horrible circumstance as have my father and mother." with these words he ripped off each grape, shoving them into his mouth quickly and chewing once before swallowing. They were as ash in his mouth, dry, crumbling ash. He lay between his parents, taking their hand and waited for death to come.

"I shall be with you soon." he promised their corpses, and closed his eyes, falling into darkness.

"Ceramus! Ceramus!" A familiar voice called, worried. He smiled faintly,

"I'm here father, we are together again." he answered, eyes not yet opening.

"Ceramus!" The voice called again, followed by a sharp slap. Ceramus' eyes snapped open quickly. Apollo stood above him, calling him, his parents' bodies still lay on either side of him, hands firmly clasped in his.

"Why am I still here!" he demanded.

"Why have I not died and joined my parents?" he shouted, glaring at the god in front of him.

"By the time you ate the grapes, Dionysus was dead. Without his power, the grapes of insanity were nothing but golden grapes." the healing god explained gently, ignoring Ceramus' glare and attitude. Ceramus stared at him blankly.

"Just grapes?" he whispered.

"Just grapes! They were not just grapes, and we need to make more! I must join my parents!" Ceramus shouted at the god.

"It is impossible." Apollo shouted back.

"Why! Is it because you are half the god my father was, or is it something else?" Ceramus shot at him scathingly. Apollo's answering smile was as icier than anything one would think the god of the sun capable of.

"No." he said calmly.

"It is because I need a sample to replicate it, but it seems to me that you ate the last of them." with those words Apollo left, leaving Ceramus to let his words sink in.

"I-I-" Ceramus muttered mindlessly. Later that night a cry, mightier than that of Dionysus' rent the air of Olympus. The cry was that of a man mindless with agony, tortured by the very thought of life. Several times the cry sounded, and after that, Ceramus disappeared from Olympus forever, never to be seen or heard of again.


End file.
